Feline Problems
by Lieju
Summary: Fantasio asked surprisingly few questions after getting a phone-message from the Spirou editorial offices saying 'Prunelle is turning into a cat. Help.' (Gaston Lagaffe/Spirou et Fantasio)
1. Chapter 1

**Fandom:** Gaston Lagaffe/ Spirou et Fantasio

**Pairing(s): **None really. Not overt anyway. (But you know what I ship)

**Summary:** Fantasio asked surprisingly few questions after getting a phone-message from the _Spirou_ editorial offices saying 'Prunelle is turning into a cat. Help.'

**Rating:** humor and fluff

**Word Count : **4635

* * *

Prunelle stepped into the mail room. "Lagaffe, have you typed the address list yet?"

Well, judging from the state of the room, no.

"Gaston, what are you doing?"

It seemed the young man had began his chemical experiments again, a fact that always worried Prunelle. Then again, a lot of things did.

"Heey, Prunelle!" Gaston popped his head up from behind the table. "You are about to witness a breakthough in inter-species co-operation! I have had some problems with getting Kitty to leave my mouse Cheese alone-"

"Is that thing supposed to make that sound?" The weird bubbling contraption made Prunelle uneasy. Although the chances were it was just a coffee-maker.

Which, now that he thought about it, _was _worrying in Gaston's hands.

"What sound?"

"That weird rumbling-"

A change in the pitch of the sound was all the warning the weird concoction gave before exploding all over Prunelle.

"Rogntudjuu, Lagaffe! What is this?"

At least it wasn't boiling, but it was stinging him. He did his best of getting rid of the dark greenish liquid. His blazer was probably ruined, though.

Gaston rose up from under the desk where he had dived to avoid the same fate. "Prunelle, look what you did, I spent the whole morning working on this!"

"When you _should _have been working on the list!"

A thought hit Prunelle. "What was in it? Was it poisonous?"

"It was an experimental cologne for mice."

"So? Was it poisonous? I think I swallowed some of it!"

"Obviously it's not dangerous! Not for mice anyway. My idea was to convince cats not to attack mice by making them smell like other cats by changing-"

"Get back to work."

"Well yes, I need to start from the beginning!"

"On the list!"

The years working with Gaston had taught Prunelle to keep a change of clothes at work, just in case of fires, or seagull-attacks, or explosions.

So after changing into something dry, he got back to work, trying to ignore the odd tingling feeling all over his body.

And hoping it didn't mean the thing had been dangerous. Although he didn't feel _bad _exactly.

The first warning sign was how his glasses started to slip. He kept adjusting them, but eventually they fell off.

And he realized his ears were missing.

No, not missing, just not where they were supposed to be.

Slowly, he lifted his hand to the top of his head, feeling around.

Yes, those were probably his ears, and definitely a part of his body, but they felt almost like...

Also there was something wrong with his behind. There was something there that definitely hadn't been there before.

He ran to the bathroom, doing his best to hide the new additions to his person behind papers, and locked the door after him.

The mirror confirmed what he had suspected; two triangular ears the colour of his hair were poking out from the top of his head.

Also he had a black tail. He pulled at it, in the hopes it would come off.

No such luck. It seemed to be a solid part of him.

This was all Gaston's fault. Somehow.

Of course, it had been the explosion, hadn't he mentioned something about cats? Prunelle did his best to hide the tail inside his sweater, and made his way to the mail room holding his ears.

"Gaston!"

The young man was shaken awake. "Mmhuh?"

"Don't you 'mmhuh' me! Look what you did! This is all because of that experiment of yours, rrrogntudjuu!"

Gaston blinked. "There's something new about you. " A realization dawned. "You're not wearing glasses."

"Of course I'm not wearing them!" He shook his glasses at him.

"My ears decided to migrate!" He had a weird feeling he wasn't in control of them, it seemed they were doing their own thing, pressing themselves against his head.

His tail certainly had a mind of its own, swishing from side to side.

"Oh. Wait a moment." Gaston dived under the table and returned with a small coil of wire.

He reached for Prunelle's ears. The editor stepped back. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm solving your problem. Here." Gaston used the wire to tie the glasses up. "Whatever the problem, trust Gaston to have a solution."

"My _problem _is that I am a _cat._"

"Hardly. More like 5% cat."

"That's 5% too much."

"Fine, fine. Sit down, and I'll see if I can brew something to fix this."

"Nonono. I'm not letting you try anything like that. I'd probably grow another head, or become part seagull or something."

"So, if you don't want my help, what are you going to do?"

"I'm waiting for this to wear off."

Gaston shrugged. "Okay."

"Of course I'm not going to just sit here. I got a job to do. So _you _will go and get me something to cover my tail and ears with. A coat and a hat of some kind."

"Phuh, sure..."

Prunelle sat down to wait.

He pulled on his ears, trying to will them to move back to normal.

No such luck.

Although his hearing seemed to be better, now that he thought about it. Although he didn't like how things sounded... _different._

He noticed someone was staring.

"What are you looking at?"

Gaston's cat meowed, looking quizzically at the mostly-human.

Annoyed, Prunelle hissed in response. It was a bit worrying how naturally that had come to him, but to his relief the cat fled looking slightly confused.

"Huh," Gaston remarked, stepping to the room right at that moment. "I would have thought becoming a cat would give you some new perspective and help you appreciate Kitty."

"Your cat, unlike me, doesn't have an actual job here." Prunelle pointed out. "As soon as you get him to sort out the mail or type documents I'll be happy to treat him like a fellow member of the staff. Whether we are of the same species or not."

He inspected the clothes Gaston had brought. It seemed he had found the raincoat the editor kept in the office in case of rain. Where he had acquired the worn old beanie (that appeared to be promotional material for the _Tintin _magazine) was anyone's guess, though.

It had been probably left by Franquin.

The clothes worked well for hiding what they needed to, however. Although it was very uncomfortable to keep both his apparently very expressive tail and ears restrained.

Well, it would only be for a short while.

"I'll need to go and make sure we meet the deadline. You-" He pointed at Gaston. "No weird experiments."

* * *

Prunelle was just congratulating himself on how everything had gone well, when Jef popped into his office. "Prunelle, Mr De Mesmaeker is here to see you."

"What?" Of course, this was just his luck.

"I'll be in the conference room in a minute."

"Are you sure?" Lebrac asked. "I mean, if you have a flu or something-"

"It's not that bad. It's not really a flu even, just that my circulation is a bit weak today so I'm feeling cold."

Obviously not going wasn't even an option. If he didn't even try, he'd be convinced for the rest of his life this had been the one time it would have worked. And that probably _would _have been the case.

Prunelle had acknowledged years ago that it was less of a matter of Gaston actively ruining the signing and more of fate itself doing its best to work through him to keep the ever-so-important contracts unsigned.

But maybe this time it would actually work, since turning someone into part-cat was pretty unbelievable to begin with, so hopefully fate or the equivalent force had spent all its energy on that and had no possibility to interwene anymore.

Prunelle was aware of how little sense that reasoning made, but he just had to grasp any hope, no matter how small.

So he made his way to the conference room, trying to anticipate how Mr De Mesmaeker would get upset this time.

"Ah, Mr Prunelle. I see the dress code is becoming more and more lax in the publishing industry."

Of course, his outfit.

"I must apologize, the air conditioning in my office is malfunctioning, so I need to dress warmly."

"It seems to be fine here."

"Nonono, I'd rather not waste valuable work-time to change outfits. Time is money and all that."

De Mesmaeker nodded. "An admirable worldview."

Prunelle sighed. That had gone well.

"So, let's get right to it," he hurried to say, gesturing towards the chair. "Please, sit down."

De Mesmaeker did so, sniffing at the air suspiciously. "What is that smell?"

"Hm?" Prunelle couldn't really place it, but it seemed delicious. "I think someone is probably eating their lunch in the adjacent room or something."

"Smells horrid."

"Nevermind that, let's get to business-" Prunelle opened the desk-drawer, only to find out what the smell had been.

It seemed like Gaston's cat had hid raw fish around the office again.

Prunelle shut the drawer, doing his best to ignore how he had thought the smell irresistible.

"Actually, I think I have to ask someone to deliver the contracts here. Just a minute."

* * *

"So, we changed this part..."

Prunelle nodded, doing his best to ignore the movement from the corner of his eye.

He sat on his tail, trying to keep it from twitching. Just one more minute, he was doing so well...

"Mr Prunelle."

"Yes?"

"I asked you what you thought of this."

The editor nodded. "I think it's fine." Truth be told, he didn't know what he had asked, but it was probably fine. All his thoughts had been on the mouse that had scurried around the office and was now standing very still, middle of the room.

It was probably one of Gaston's, maybe even the one called Cheese.

Prunelle stared at it.

It would be so simple, catching the thing... It was right in the open...

Then the mouse moved, and Prunelle couldn't resist anymore, and leaped at it.

Unfortunately, he had underestimated how hard it would be leaping from a sitting position, so he stumbled and missed the mouse.

It ran, followed by the editor who did his best to scamper after it on all fours.

Which turned again to be more awkward than he felt it should have been, as if the way his human body worked didn't match the mental image his instinct was working off of at that moment.

As a result, the rodent escaped under the cabinet.

Prunelle grimaced in frustration, as his hand didn't fit under it.

"Mr Prunelle!"

That snapped him out of it and made him fully aware of what he was doing.

"Um, I was just..."

"I see you have a pest problem."

"Ah." Prunelle stood up, relieved that at least his coat and hat had stayed on. "It's not a pest. It's a pet of one of our employees. Almost like an office mascot, really. Unfortunately it escaped some days ago, so now that I spotted it I tried to, naturally, recapture it without harming it."

De Mesmaeker seemed to buy the story. "Hm. My youngest daughter had a pet mouse when she was a child. Interesting little things."

"Yes, yes, we all love the little thing."

"It's definitely better than that flying monster of yours. It's not here, is it?"

"No, it's away."

Prunelle wondered how he'd react to the bird. Hopefully he wouldn't try to eat that as well...

Just thinking about the mouse gave him some pretty unwelcome mental images and made him very glad he had eaten lunch before all this had happened.

Although he was bound to get hungry at some point, and the question of what he could or _would want to _eat was worrying.

He did his best to push that all out of his mind. Hopefully he'd never have to find out. "So, can we get back to business?" He could scarcely believe it, but De Mesmaeker seemed to be on a rather good mood for the moment.

This whole cat-thing might be worth it if it meant finally succeeding...

"What?"

Mesmaeker was staring at his head.

Prunelle was painfully aware his ears were moving. Had the other man noticed it?

Whatever it was, he seemed mad. "I see how it is!"

"You see how what-"

He grumbled the contracts into a ball. "I expect a certain amount of employee-loyalty from my business partners! But I see you have no problem supporting the competition!"

He stormed off, leaving the confused editor in the room.

It hit him.

He couldn't believe it.

It would have worked, he would have finally succeeded, if only Gaston had found a different hat for him to wear. One that didn't have the competitor's logo and name on it.

* * *

Prunelle stepped into Gaston's room, not even sure what he was doing there.

At least there he could discard his disguise. That made him feel a bit better, at least.

He thought of yelling at Gaston, but it seemed he had no energy for it.

And he had to admit, all things considered, it hadn't really been his fault. The hat-thing at least.

"Go on, Gaston. Keep doing whatever it was you were doing."

Reading comics, apparently.

He caught Gaston staring. "What?"

"Are you... Okay?"

"_What?_" Prunelle stared at the younger man as if he'd started sprouting animal-parts as well. Would have been less out of character, to tell the truth.

"Well, you seem a bit... Under the weather. Or maybe sad."

"I'm fine." It occurred to Prunelle Gaston was probably interpreting the movement of his ears and tail that were doing things on their own and presumably reflecting his mood. So, all it took for Gaston to become less oblivious to his feelings was for him to grow a tail.

"Okay then."

Although judging from his smile, his obliviousness ran deep.

But he looked like he had a thought and put down his comic book. "I was just wondering. Your ears and tail are the colour of your hair. Do you suppose that would just always happen?"

"I have no idea."

"I mean, it would be a bit weird, right? Cats aren't necessarily all one colour. Take my cat for example, he is mostly black, but has a white belly."

"Such a fascinating question."

If Gaston could spot the sarcasm in his voice, he gave no indication of it.

"How does it feel? Having moveable ears like that? Ooh, I got an idea! Why don't you write an article about it?"

"Titled 'that one time I was a cat'? No."

"Why not? It's not like it would be the weirdest article this magazine has ever published. Remember that one about aliens and apple-cider? Or the dinosaur?"

"Lagaffe, you are probably better off not taking everything Fantasio writes about what he does on his holidays seriously. I'm hiding in this room for a reason, I don't want anyone seeing this. They aren't going away, are they?"

"Not as far as I can tell." Gaston reached out a hand to touch his ears. "They really feel like a cat's! Except bigger. Sort of human-sized."

Prunelle tensed. He wasn't sure what Gaston was thinking he was doing, but that felt...nice.

And he was disappointed when the younger man withdrew his hand.

"I... was okay with that."

The hand was back, scratching him behind the ears.

Prunelle closed his eyes, leaning to the touch.

He was vaguely aware he was involuntarily making a purring noise, and burying his face to the green sweater, but all that felt distant.

He just didn't care anymore.

* * *

That was how Lebrac and Jef found them several hours later.

"Is Prunelle here, I needed to ask him-"

Lebrac stopped, taking in the sight in front of him.

Gaston was sitting on the floor, with the editor curled up next to him, head on the younger man's lap.

Gaston lifted a finger to his lips. "Shh, he is sleeping."

"Is he okay?" Lebrac asked, worried.

Was he hurt or ill? And why did he have a feeling there was something weird about him?

Something apart from sleeping, head on Gaston's lap.

It seemed they had interrupted his nap anyway, and he opened his eyes with a sleepy "Mmnau?" which reminded Lebrac of something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Prunelle looked around, spotting the two men.

He stumbled up. "I-I don't know what I was..."

He turned to Gaston. "Rrrogntudjuu, Gaston, you let me fall asleep?!"

"It's not like you could get any work done anyway," Gaston pointed out. "And you looked actually relaxed for once."

"Um, Prunelle," Lebrac interrupted. "Do you have a tail?"

His first thought was that it must be a costume, but he had to wonder how they had managed to make it so lifelike.

Prunelle felt for his tail, and ears, drawing Lebracs attention to them.

"Rogntudjuu, I still have them!"

"What exactly is going on?"

"It was all Gaston's fault!"

Well, that much Lebrac could have guessed.

"It was some weird experiment of his!"

"He is 5% cat now," Gaston added helpfully.

"I was hoping the tail and ears would go back to normal just by waiting, but no."

"Ears, tail and eyes," Jef noted.

"What?"

"Your eyes have slitted pupils, like a cat's," Lebrac told him.

"I don't think you had them before," Gaston said.

"I'm sure I didn't! That explains why the colours are looking a bit weird..." He felt his teeth and tongue. "And I think there's something wrong with my teeth. And tongue too. It feels sort of rough, almost like..."

"So instead of a cat getting your tongue, you got a cat's tongue!" Gaston laughed.

"Gassshhton..." The editor hissed, showing off his quite sharp canines.

Lebrac positioned himself between the two, since it was looking like Prunelle was seriously losing his temper and was planning to do his best shredding Gaston to pieces, whether he already had sharp nails or not. "We need to figure out what to do."

Prunelle's ears perked up. "You're right, you were saying you needed my help with something? The magazine-"

"I was more thinking along the lines of trying to turn you back to normal," Lebrac told him.

"Yes, that's important too."

"I offered my help, but he refused. And why are you in such a hurry to turn back anyway? I'd love to have a tail."

Everyone stared at Gaston.

"I cannot possibly be the only one. Anyway, there are worse animals to be. Cats are nice. And think for a moment what kind of a step for science this is! You can be the bridge between two worlds, an ambassador between humans and cats, help with the conservation of endangered felines-"

"I don't want to do any of that! I want to get the magazine ready in time! If you want to do all that, be my guest and take a bath in that concoction of yours!"

"You used it all up! But try to relax, I've already come up with a solution. Fantasio is in town, and he knows about weird stuff like this. Just call him."

* * *

Fantasio had asked surprisingly few questions after getting a phone-message from _Spirou _editorial offices saying 'Prunelle is turning into a cat. Help,' and had hurried to the office.

"Ah." He stared at the editor. "Those are cat-ears alright."

"Can you help?" Prunelle asked.

"Well, wizardry like that is a bit out of my field, but I know someone who can probably help."

* * *

"We could have taken my car," Gaston told them.

"Yes, and we would have arrived there by the time I walked on all fours!"

"You are exaggerating. Still, this is a nice car you got, Fantasio."

Fantasio nodded from the driver's seat. Somehow it had been decided Gaston would accompany them, most likely to keep him out of the office, so that they would have some chance of finishing before the deadline.

Even if his car was slightly too small for three people.

Neither Gaston nor Prunelle seemed to mind, and actually, Fantasio noticed Léon was leaning on the younger man a bit more tightly than necessary, and Gaston's arm had found its way around the editor.

* * *

The count was even less surprised than Fantasio, which both reassured Prunelle that he would know what he was doing, and worried him because this kind of stuff must have been common around there.

"Ah, yes, I can see that." He poked Prunelle's whiskers. "And you say the changes keep happening?"

Fantasio took pity on Prunelle. "He looks like he could use some rest."

"I'll just take this for analysis." The count pulled a hair from him eliciting a startled 'gnaow'.

* * *

"Well,I have good news and bad news," the Count informed Fantasio, Gaston and Spirou. "The good news are that your friend's DNA still has all the human components. The bad news are they are getting rewritten, and fast."

"Can you do anything?" Fantasio asked.

"Oh, yes. Remember that serum I made from chanterelles a while back when I tried to find a cure for the common cold?

I should be able to use that to purge the foreign DNA out of his system, but that's only assuming he is still mostly human. If the transformation has gone too far, I'm afraid there is nothing we can do to stop it."

"So, where's Prunelle?" Spirou asked.

"I left him in the other room," Fantasio told him.

"Well, he's not there anymore. Also it seems he left his shoes behind," Spirou noted.

"Maybe he wanted some fresh air? And got lost?" Gaston suggested. "My cat gets confused when I bring him to new places."

They separated, trying to find the catman.

Fantasio ended up taking Spip with him. "Spip, search, can you find the cat?"

The squirrel gave him a look that seemed almost incredulous. It was at times like these that Fantasio wondered if Spip could understand what they said.

In any case, he seemed to get the gist of it, and ran outside. Fantasio followed him, wishing it was leading him to Prunelle and not a stash of berries or something.

Spip stopped under a tree. Fantasio peered up, just barely spotting a humanoid figure up in the green. "Prunelle?"

"Go away, I know what I'm doing."

Well, at least he seemed to still have some sense left in him. Still, sitting in a tree sort of suggested he _didn't_ know what he was doing.

"Léon, you need to come down, we need to hurry and turn you back. If the transformation goes too far you'll end up stuck as a cat."

"I know."

"What?"

"I'm fully in control of all of my mental faculties."

Fantasio hesitated. The obvious argument, (you're half a cat and hiding in a tree) might have only made things worse, or scared him.

"You can't be serious, are you really planning to become a cat?"

"Why not? It's- It's easier. Less complicated."

Fantasio was starting to figure it out. "This is about Gaston, isn't it?"

He didn't answer, which Fantasio took to mean his guess had been right.

"Gaston! He's here!" he called, waving at the young man who was looking for Prunelle in the nearby bushes, ignoring the almost hissed "don't tell him!" from the tree.

"Phuh, Prunelle, what are you doing?" Gaston peered at the green.

When there was no answer, he tried again, this time with a softer tone, "Here, kitty, kitty, come down here, to be, um, less of a kitty."

This time he got a barely audible response. "I- I like you, Gaston, and at least you like me like this."

"Prunelle, I like you anyway."

"Ga-Gaston, I don't think-"

"I get why you'd want to be a cat, being a cat is awesome, but the office already has a cat, but it only has one Prunelle."

"Um."

"We all like you, you might yell less as a cat, and this would be a great chance to stop smoking..." Gaston stopped, pondering. "Yes, but I'd still rather you didn't..."

"I can't come down."

"But-" Fantasio interjected.

"I would, but I think I'm stuck."

They ended up getting a ladder and helping Prunelle, who was sprouting black fur all over and quickly shrinking, down.

"Sorry," he leaned on Fantasio. "My legs are a bit..."

The blonde nodded. "Let's get you to the lab."

* * *

Prunelle opened his decidedly human eyes. "What..?"

"How are you feeling?" Fantasio asked.

"I don't... Where am I?"

"See? He is fine." Gaston said. "Back to normal. Although the ears suited him, too bad."

"What are you talking about?"

The Count shone a light to his eye. "You don't remember? You were almost too far gone, but in the end I managed to get all the cat-DNA out. But if you feel like chasing after mice or something, hm, just try to ignore it."

"What was the last thing you remember?" Spirou asked.

"I was at the office, some experiment of Gaston exploded..."

"You don't remember being a cat?"

"Gaston, what are you talking about?"

"You were a cat! Almost anyway!"

"I was NOT."

Gaston and Fantasio did their best to explain what he had forgotten, and in the end, Prunelle fell back on the bed. "No offense, but I find all of that difficult to believe."

"Well, you are back to being you again," Gaston stated. "By the way, Mr. Count, you promised to show me some of your experiments."

"Ah, yes, come along-"

Prunelle groaned. "Please, someone go keep a watch on Gaston. He really doesn't need any more ideas for interesting experiments, and I think I'll need to rest for a moment..."

"I'll go," Spirou assured him. "You shouldn't try to get up yet." And he ran after the two inventors.

Fantasio stayed.

"So, are you planning to tell Gaston you 'like' him?"

"What?"

"It's obvious. Well, for me anyway. You should tell him. I'd advice using the word 'love' or 'attraction' next time, though, just to make it clear. Also you'd probably make a better impression if you didn't confess your feelings while hiding in a tree."

Prunelle blushed. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I'm not buying that 'convenient amnesia' excuse, Prunelle. It's one I've used myself. Nor will I believe that it was just the cat-part talking. I have seen how you look at him, this was just what made me certain."

He took pity on Prunelle. And it was only fair he would know _his _secret.

"But I'm not sure if my advice is worth anything, considering _I _haven't told the one I love how I feel about him either."

A realization dawned on Prunelle. "Spirou?"

Fantasio nodded.

"But at least you have a chance. There is no way Gaston would ever... It would never work even if he did. And he has a girlfriend, or an almost-girlfriend anyway, and I'm happy for them, I really am. They will be happy, and I got my work, so I'll be content too."

"If you say so. Like I said, my advice on this matter is worth little. But keep in mind you were ready to become a cat for him. Which, as far as being willing to change for someone, is pretty radical."

"Hm, well, to be honest at that point I might have been thinking more about sleeping on his lap all day, being petted and fed fish."

"And now?"

"It's back to far more unrealistic dreams."


	2. alternative ending

**Fandom:** Gaston Lagaffe/ Spirou et Fantasio

**Summary:** The 'bad ending' to Feline problems.

**Word Count: **686**  
**

* * *

"It's not working," Fantasio announced, somewhat unnecessarily.

Despite the Count's efforts, Prunelle was looking less and less like a human.

"The transformation has gone too far," the Count informed them. "It just won't work."

"So what can we do?" Fantasio inquired.

"I'm afraid..." The Count shook his head.

"But-"

"It's fine," Prunelle interrupted from the bed. There was still enough human features for him to be recognizable, but he had started shrinking, and the body shape was becoming increasingly non-humanoid.

"We can only let the changes happen at this point," the Count admitted.

Gaston spoke for the first time in a while. "Does it hurt?"

Prunelle shook his head. "No. Well, it feels like it _should _hurt, especially what goes on with my bones, but it's fine."

He addressed the gathered crowd. "Could I be alone? It's a bit... Awkward having company right now."

"Of course," Spirou said. "If you're sure."

He nodded. "Except, I'd like to talk to Gaston alone. While I still can."

They were left alone.

Gaston sat on the bed next to him.

Prunelle thought of holding his hand, but given that his pretty much resembled paws at that point he put one on the office boy's shoulder instead.

"Gaston, I... Like you."

"I like you too."

Prunelle thought of being more specific, but decided against it. For one, he wasn't even sure if that was true anymore given the changes. It was possible there no longer was any attraction, simply whatever it was cats felt for their humans.

And secondly, it would have made what he had to ask next far more awkward.

"I need to ask you for a favour."

"What?"

"Can you take care of me? I mean, after I'm fully... I don't think I can really live by myself anymore."

The surprised look on Gaston's face made him worry. Until the younger man spoke. "Of course!"

"Wait, were you planning to take me home with you all this time anyway?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that's... good?"

Prunelle changed position in an attempt to get more comfortable. It felt like his pelvis and legs were contorting into their new position. He had lied when he had told them it didn't hurt. True, it didn't feel as painful as one might assume, but a big part of him would be glad when it was over.

But not yet.

He leaned on Gaston, somewhat shocked to find how big he seemed.

As his skull shrunk his glasses fell off, but it wasn't like he needed them anymore. True, in some ways his vision was being as unclear as ever, and the world was looking far less colourful, but he was starting to notice how sense of smell and touch could complement that. His whiskers were taking in all kinds of information. And they were apparently yet another new moving body part.

And there was a difference in how he perceived movement-

He shook himself from his reverie. He'd have plenty of time to get used to all that.

But less so to say whatever he had to say.

"Gaston, I'm not sure how," he coughed. It was becoming harder to talk and he was certain his voice sounded weird. "How much I'll be _me_. I'm not... Sure."

He wasn't even sure which he would prefer: being a human trapped in a form of a cat, or a cat with vague memories of being human.

Gaston pulled him to his lap.

"It will be fine," he told him. "I'll take care of you. I'll- you probably have to eat cat food, but I'll buy the good stuff, and fresh fish at least once a week. And I'll take you to places you'd like. Like um, classical music things. And the office. You can still complain to me, and be angry, so..."

He hugged the small form, burying his face to the sweater that was now far too big for its wearer.

"So you don't have to stop being _you._"

The black cat on his lap simply meowed softly.


End file.
